Body Heat Page 5

  One more push and he would confess just as Helen had predicted, Callie was sure, and she was sure that Miller and Jeffries knew it too. But Miller would also know that Mark would recant his confession as soon as he was out of the room and that Callie would almost certainly stand up in court and tell the jurors he was pressurised by the police into confessing. Callie felt there was a good chance she would be believed because she was a professional who worked with the police and Mark had the sort of endearing looks that would make the jury want to mother him. The prosecution would need to have more evidence than just a confession if there was to be any hope of a conviction. Callie could see all this going through Miller’s mind as he debated with himself whether to press on or not. Jeffries was chomping at the bit, wanting to make the final push. It was decision time and Miller had made his decision.

  “Have you got a girlfriend?”

  Jeffries looked disappointed by the question, knowing that Miller was backing off, and Callie was suspicious. Only Mark accepted it as just another question in a long and seemingly never-ending interview, and at least it wasn’t about the dead woman.

  “’Course.”

  The legal exec mouthed “no comment” to Mark.

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Inspector–?” the legal exec started to interrupt, but was silenced by a look from Miller.

  “What’s she called?”

  Mark looked at Callie again, but she wasn’t sure what to do; should she tell him to listen to his advisor?

  “Mel,” Mark said as Callie hesitated.

  “Is she pretty?”

  “She’s all right.” Mark thought for a moment. “Have you got one?”

  Jeffries tried to hide a smirk and Miller ignored the question.

  “It’s nice having a girlfriend, isn’t it? Do you see her a lot?”

  Mark nodded and looked at Callie again. It seemed a pretty harmless line of questioning, so Callie looked at the solicitor, he was making notes and hadn’t told Mark not to answer again, so she didn’t interfere.

  “For the tape, Mr Caxton nodded,” stated Jeffries.

  Miller was annoyed by the interruption, however much he knew it was important for when the tape was played back. He had been gaining Mark’s trust but now, he was distracted again.

  “So, did you see her that night?” he asked. Callie looked at Mark’s legal advisor, uncertain whether to remind Mark again that he should say no comment. It was clear that Miller was trying to find out if Mark had an alibi which could work for or against him, depending on his answer. In the end, neither stopped Mark from answering.

  “What night?” Mark was confused by the change in direction.

  “Saturday night?”

  “Erm…” Mark was trying to think back.

  “That was three nights ago.”

  Mark thought some more before answering.

  “Dunno.”

  Three nights ago was clearly a long time to Mark.

  “Well, did you see her last night?”

  “Yeah,” Mark smiled at the memory.

  “And the night before?”

  “No, she was at her nan’s, I think. We don’t see each other when she’s at her nan’s, ’cos it’s too far to walk.”

  “And the night before that? Was she at her nan’s then?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “So, had it been a few days since you last met up when you saw her last night?”

  “I dunno. Might’ve been.” Mark struggled to think, then shook his head. “I just see her when she’s around, you know?”

  Mark genuinely didn’t seem able to remember.

  “We’ll need her full name, Mark,” Miller said with resignation. He sighed and looked at Jeffries, who was clearly irritated. They both knew this wasn’t going to be an easy conviction after all, they were going to have to do it the hard way, by collecting the evidence and building the case.

  Much to Callie’s relief, Miller ended the interview.

  * * *

  “I’m not sure this is right,” Callie told Miller. He had caught her just as she was about to leave. Mark was being released whilst they checked his alibi and tried to find further evidence against him.

  “I’m pretty sure it’s wrong for you to be his appropriate adult, but you still did it.” Miller was still angry about that, it seemed.

  “I know you have some circumstantial evidence linking Mark to the murder, but, I mean, look at the boy, why would a mature woman get in a car with a young lad like him?”

  “I can think of a number of reasons, and it’s more than just circumstantial evidence. You saw what he was like, for goodness’ sake, he almost hit you for just putting a hand on his arm, what would he have done if you had put your hand on his knee or something?”

  Callie had to concede he had a point. She had been shaken by his violent reaction, just as much as Miller had been, and if the victim had come onto him? Touched him somewhere intimate? Perhaps that might have been enough to provoke him into killing her.

  “The boy’s a powder keg, so I don’t want you to see him alone in surgery or anything like that. Get one of your colleagues to be his doctor, if needed.”

  Callie looked at him in amazement.

  “You have no right to tell me which patients I can or can’t see, Detective Inspector.”

  “I’m just trying to protect you–”

  “I do not need your protection. I am not stupid and I will take suitable precautions, but I will see whoever I need to see and I certainly don’t need your permission to do it.”

  She turned on her heel and left.

  Chapter 5

  Callie arrived for work bright and early. She planned to park her car in one of the ‘doctors only’ spaces in the small adjacent car park.

  The surgery had been built in the 1980s, and was moderately user-friendly but far too small and Callie knew that Hugh had recently been looking at the possibility of relocating to other premises in the Old Town as there was simply no possibility of them being able to extend anywhere apart from into the very small car park which only provided two spaces for patients and three for doctors on a strictly first-come, first-served basis. Except for Hugh Grantham’s of course. As Senior Partner, his space was sacrosanct. Callie usually left her car at home and went back to pick up her car if she was doing visits or was called to the police station, but today she wanted to fit in a quick visit to the supermarket between surgeries and she had a baby clinic as well, so she had driven.

  Arriving at the car park, Callie was surprised to see that even this early both of the general doctors’ spaces were full. She recognised one of the cars as belonging to Gauri Sinha but the other was unknown to her. Now she had a dilemma, Hugh’s space was definitely out of bounds, but he was also adamant that the two patient spaces should be left free for those who needed them. Many of their patients were elderly or infirm and were unable to walk far. Parking spaces were few and far between and it took Callie twenty minutes to find a free one, so far up the East Hill she was almost back home, and then walk back down to work.

  As Callie collected her basket of paperwork from the main office, Linda was sorting through the list of calls made to the out of hours service during the night.

  “Good morning, Linda, anything interesting?” Callie asked her.

  “No, not that I can see.”

  Callie started for the door, but turned and asked as an afterthought, “Who else is in?”

  “Just you and Dr Sinha.”

  “So, whose is the other car in the doctors’ space?” Callie was indignant. There was a chain across the car park entrance overnight to stop locals from using it after a time several years ago when Hugh had regularly arrived at work to find his space taken. The car turned out to belong to a particularly rude man three doors along who felt he had a right to use it when the surgery was closed, but equally didn’t want to get up early to move his car once they were open for business.

  “Oh, yes. That’s Dr Brown’s.”
Linda looked embarrassed.

  “But you said that only Gauri was in?”

  “Yes. Dr Brown left his car here last night.” Linda was busying herself and not looking at Callie. “He does that sometimes.”

  “Why would he do that? He lives in Fairlight, he can hardly walk home from here. Can he?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Linda said tersely and turned away before Callie could question her further.

  Callie took her work basket through to the doctors’ office where Gauri was just finishing her own paperwork and packing everything away. She looked up and smiled as Callie entered the room.

  “Good morning, Callie,” Gauri said brightly. “You are in early.” It was said as a statement, but made Callie feel guilty that she didn’t come in early more often.

  “Hi, Gauri. Yes, I needed to catch up.” Callie indicated her overflowing work basket. “Did you know that Gerry Brown leaves his car here sometimes?”

  “Wednesday and Saturday nights,” Gauri answered her.

  “Every Wednesday and Saturday?”

  “Yes, indeed. Every Wednesday and Saturday night.”

  Callie was having difficulty interpreting the look she was getting from Gauri.

  “What does he do on those days? And doesn’t his wife mind him not going home?”

  “I do not have the answers to your questions, Callie. Perhaps it is Dr Brown you should be asking?” and with that, Gauri left. Callie was bemused. Everyone seemed to know something about Gerry Brown that she didn’t, and they seemed unusually tight-lipped about it, as if they disapproved.

  Looking at the pile of work in front of her, Callie decided she would have to think about it later, perhaps even ask Gerry himself, although she suspected he wouldn’t tell her the truth if it was something shameful or embarrassing. Perhaps she should invest in some chocolate biscuits and tackle Linda again over a cup of coffee to see what she could prise out of her. That usually worked. With a shake of her head, Callie got on with her pile of test results and letters.

  * * *

  Callie’s plan to pop over to the supermarket had been delayed by a call from Helen Austen, the social worker, letting Callie know that Mark Caxton’s mother had called and telling her that the police were searching their house. Helen was angry because Mark’s mother was as vulnerable as he was and in a terrible state. An agoraphobic alcoholic, it was extremely distressing for her to have the police invade the only space in which she felt she was safe. Helen believed the police were fishing and had no real evidence against Mark, but her reason for calling Callie was that she was worried that the pressure was getting to him and that he might do something stupid like confess, or go out and commit arson again. After all the hard work Helen and his psychologist, Adrian Lambourne, had put in to help Mark, and with such success, it would be a crying shame if the police pushed him into re-offending.

  “What do you want me to do?” Callie asked her, warily. Sensing that her two roles were about to collide, again, and much as she was angered by Miller’s interference in her role with her patient, she had no wish to either obstruct his investigation or get beaten up by anyone.

  “Can I bring him in to see you this afternoon? See what you think?” Helen asked.

  “Erm…” Callie scrolled through her evening list, which was completely full as usual. She knew that Helen was essentially covering her back. If Mark confessed or re-offended, a doctor’s view that he had been put under undue pressure would be invaluable. It would also seriously irritate the police, if it was possible for her to irritate them more than she had the day before.

  “What about Adrian Lambourne? Wouldn’t he be better placed to see Mark? His opinion would carry more weight, surely?”

  “I tried him. He can’t see Mark until next week and I am worried that might be too late.”

  Callie conceded defeat. Helen was right, her first duty was to her patient. “Okay. Could you get him here before evening surgery?” she asked Helen. “I’ll fit him in first.” The supermarket would have to wait, better that than see him at the end and risk being alone with him. She wasn’t that stupid.

  * * *

  The baby clinic was just finishing and the last screaming infant had been tucked up in a nice warm push chair when Callie heard from Helen that Mark had been arrested. It seemed that the police had found a box containing old match books similar to the ones used to start the fire, and Helen was on her way to the station to be Mark’s appropriate adult alongside his solicitor. Callie immediately felt guilty about the wave of relief that washed over her. Now she would have time to nip to the supermarket and fill her car up with petrol before evening surgery. She was also undeniably happy not to have to interfere with the police handling of the investigation.

  It wasn’t until later, sitting in her consulting room, finishing off the last of her chicken and salad roll that the guilt overtook her, and, with a quick look at her watch to reassure herself that there was still time before she was due to see her first patient, Callie reached for the phone. She hoped that Detective Inspector Miller would have either finished or, if he was being particularly obstructive, have left Mark and Helen kicking their heels and had not even started the interview. She would bet on the latter. Either way, she was put straight through to his office and he answered.

  The conversation, in which Callie had hoped she could express her concerns for Mark’s welfare, find out how the investigation was going and offer her help and support to both the police and her patient, didn’t quite go the way she had planned.

  Miller seemed deeply suspicious of her motives in asking about Mark.

  “Why do you need to know how he is?” he responded to her enquiry about Mark’s mental state.

  “Because I’m his doctor,” she replied and was met with stony silence. “Look, I know he over-reacted earlier but–”

  “Dr Hughes,” Miller interrupted her. “Your patient is fine and I have an investigation to conduct. Whilst I appreciate your concern, he has an appropriate adult here, and probably a more appropriate one than yourself.”

  Callie silently smarted at that, even though she knew Miller was probably right.

  “I am sure I don’t need to remind you that you also have a role as a police employee. Have you been asked to come in to check his fitness for interview?” he continued.

  “Er, no.” Callie was surprised to be asked. “Why? Do you think he might not be fit for interview? Perhaps it might be a good idea if–”

  “No.” Miller quickly interrupted her. “You are not needed, he’s fine, and perhaps it would be better if you admitted that you have a conflict of interests and remove yourself from any further involvement in this case.”

  He hung up, leaving Callie seething with anger.

  “Rude, arrogant, stupid–” Callie struggled for a word to describe Miller, “man,” was the best she could do, before slamming the phone down and realising that Linda had come in after a perfunctory knock and was looking at her in surprise.

  “I take it someone’s upset you?” Linda asked.

  “Was it that obvious?” Callie replied, embarrassed.

  “Only to me and everyone in the waiting room.”

  “Well, that’s all right then.” Callie managed to smile despite her irritation.

  “I just popped in to give you a couple of telephone messages.” Linda handed over two notes and left.

  Callie saw that the first one was a patient wanting advice but the second was from the police station. The custody sergeant wanted her to come and examine a prisoner who had minor injuries incurred during his arrest, and, despite Miller’s insistence that Mark was fine, from the way he had jumped in and told her so vehemently that her patient was okay, Callie had a pretty good idea who that prisoner would turn out to be. She checked her watch: four o’clock. If she was quick, she would just have time to see him before evening surgery, and with a bit of luck, she would seriously irritate Detective Inspector Miller by doing so.

  * * *

  Mark’s in
juries were very minor, it looked as if he had taken a slight blow to his face, either from a policeman’s fist or some other solid object. There was a small amount of bruising but his lip and nose had long since stopped bleeding and she only had to clean him up a bit, making sure she explained what she was doing and getting permission from him before touching his face at all. She didn’t want to prompt any kind of reaction. Her main concern, and the custody sergeant’s as well, was his level of anxiety. She was seeing him in the treatment room, alone, but there was a panic button nearby if she needed help, and a police constable hovering just outside the door with orders to come in if he heard anything untoward.

  “Can you tell me what happened, Mark?” she asked. “How did you get these injuries?”

  “I tried to stop them taking my collection.”

  “Collection?”

  “My dad’s match books. They’re mine now. He gave them to me. They have no right.”

  “You are not allowed matches, Mark,” Callie explained gently. “Not when–”

  “I don’t use them to light things. They were my dad’s.”

  Callie could easily imagine Mark had tried to stop the police from taking away his precious collection, a memento of his dead father, and his injuries were consistent with a struggle to get them back. She tried to get more detail from him but he became barely coherent, one minute asking her if she could help him get his matches back, unlikely under the circumstances, and the next worrying about his mum and asking who would look after his cat. Worrying about everything and everyone except himself.

  Callie considered prescribing him an anxiolytic but thought she would prefer to speak to Adrian Lambourne, his psychologist, before doing that because he was on a number of other drugs to help control his behavioural problems and she didn’t want to make matters worse. Instead, she spent some time talking to Mark and trying to calm him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t very long before the custody sergeant apologetically knocked on the door and asked if he was okay to interview because the detectives were waiting. Callie would have liked longer but, knowing that at least Mark had Helen and a solicitor to support him, she agreed that he was and allowed him to be taken to the interview room. She took her time writing up her notes before leaving the treatment room in the hope that she wouldn’t meet Miller on her way out, but just as she was leaving the custody suite, he came flying down the stairs and almost knocked her over in his rush to grab the door before it shut behind her.